


Abundance

by ToxicLaughter



Series: Murlendez AUs [5]
Category: The Good Doctor (TV 2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Serial Killers, And it's written in a totally weird way, M/M, Murder, Neil is a Serial Killer, Obsessive Behavior, Self-Indulgent, This is random and kind of a weird AU, Unhealthy Relationships, serial killer au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-15
Updated: 2018-04-23
Packaged: 2019-04-23 09:16:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14329296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ToxicLaughter/pseuds/ToxicLaughter
Summary: His bus is late, thankfully there’s a nice man here to give him a ride home.





	1. PART ONE: COMPULSION

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had talked about doing this AU in my high school AU series, and since I have a lot of editing that I’m procrastinating for that story I decided to write this instead. But I promise I am on top of that editing, yes sir, that story will not be shoved to the back of my archive account and forgotten about, promise. Anyways, I hope you enjoy this, it’s kinda of a self-indulgent story tbh, b/c I love the idea of Melendez secretly killing a shit ton of people during his time as an attending.

Ashes tumbled from the tip of cigarette to the ground in a less than graceful fashion. Before he was fired and his license to practice was revoked he would’ve gagged at the thought of smoking a cigarette. But now he has so little to live for, who cares what happens to his lungs? 

They had fired him for ‘an abundance of unexplained casualties during operation’. Or, he had killed too many people with the blade of a surgeon. He’s honestly more disappointed that they didn’t figure him out sooner. Nearly fifteen years of occasionally nicking an artery here, stapling the wrong part of an organ there. One time he had even just outright sliced the person’s heart open, then closed them up. No one had taken notice.

He figures it all came down to Glassman. That Aaron Glassman had sensed something was off and he couldn’t figure out what it was. So they let him go. Took away his medical license and put him on the short black list of doctors no longer allowed to practice.

Almost immediately after he left they appointed a new doctor to take over for him. His name was Coyle and he knew the stories about that man. He was overly touchy, overly friendly, especially to the female staff. Neil was a killer, but he wasn’t a pervert. He wouldn’t tolerate for his residents to have to go through such blatant disrespect. Coyle’s death would go very noticed, but he figures no one would truly miss him.

It’s his first time killing someone out of the hospital and his hands are shaking with excitement. He can’t wait to put his hands around Coyle’s throat and squeeze.

Claire comes walking out of the hospital, still in her scrubs, with Jared at her side. They look miserable. As he figured they would be. She’s waving a hand around as she speaks to Jared. A head pokes out from between them, brown hair curly and ruffled. This one is also wearing scrubs. Neil wonders if they hired a new resident. He remembers Glassman discussing something about a new resident a few months before he was fired but ultimately nothing came up from it.

His two old residents seem to know whomever this is and chat with him for a while, soon enough dumping him off at the bus stop. Neil looks around, it’s fairly dark, not many people are outside. He looks back to watch Claire and Jared head towards the parking garage.

He waits for a few more minutes, just watching the hospital, waiting for Coyle to walk out. But he gets bored. His hands are steady and almost all the adrenaline is gone. And that’s not good. He rubs his mouth, cursing to himself, before taking a few strides towards his car. Neil’s about to drive away when his eye catches back on the young resident sitting at the bus stop. Who’s starting to look worried. Neil checks his watch. Half-past nine.

The bus is late. Neil inwardly fights with himself. Whoever this kid is, he probably doesn’t deserve to die. But neither did many of his patients. And Coyle isn’t here to take the fall. And the kid is an easy target.

He pulls up next to the bus stop, hands shaking again, and rolls down his window. “Need a ride?”

The resident looks at him, for only a moment, before looking away. “No thank you.”

“Come on, I don’t think the bus is coming. It’d be wrong of me to just let you sit out here in the cold.”

“It’s not that cold…” He fiddles with the strings to the backpack between his feet. “Dr. Glassman will get off work soon. He’ll give me a ride.”

Neil can’t help but grin, full-toothed, wide, predatory. He’s found an in. “Aaron sent me. He said he didn’t want you outside by yourself.” The resident frowns. Neil knows from experience that it’s probably something that Dr. Glassman would _not_ say, but he’s hoping he can be convincing enough. Melendez leans over his passenger seat, opening up the door. “Get in, before it gets too cold.”

In all honesty, he’s surprised the man actually stands and gets into his car. He was expecting maybe a little more reservations. But alas, this man is ever trusting. Neil introduces himself, reaching over to give the resident a handshake. He’s denied when the kid shrinks into his seat and away from Melendez. “I’m Dr. Shaun Murphy, I’m a surgical resident here at St. Bonaventure.”

“I knew that,” he didn’t. But Shaun Murphy doesn’t need to know that. “How’re you liking it so far?”

“If you’re Neil Melendez then you were fired a few weeks ago. For disorderly conduct.” 

He smiles. So that’s what it officially went down in the books as? Couldn’t very well write ‘one of our senior surgical attendings was a killer’, could they? “There were, extenuating circumstances.” Shaun nods. Accepting that as an answer. Neil thinks this couldn’t be an easier.

He asks for Shaun’s address, just to string the man on for a little bit longer, and starts driving in that direction. The ride is fairly silent. Shaun doesn’t talk much and Melendez isn’t inclined to push him to do so. When they get close to Shaun’s apartment complex, he takes a few wrong turns. Winds down roads he’s never been on until he finds an empty alley.

Neil shuts his car off, putting it in park, and sighing. “I hate to make this so cliche,” he gets out of the car as he talks, leaving his door open so Shaun can still hear him. “But I really hadn’t planned very well for this. I watched a few episodes of that Dexter show, and I think after you I might just have to do this kind of stuff like he did. No muss, no fuss. But I’m not sure where one gets that much plastic wrap. You got any ideas?” He slams his trunk closed, scalpel in hand. He plays with it as he walks up to Shaun’s door.

Before he can open it, it opens on its own and Shaun just looks at him. Neil can’t move as the resident steps out of the car, seemingly unphased by what he had said. And where they are. “Thank you for the ride,” he says softly. “But I think you got lost. I’m going to call a cab.”

Needless to say, Neil is a little confused. Blade still in hand, heart still set on killing someone, he watches Shaun Murphy walk down the empty alley to the street. Hail a cab. And leave. It happens so quickly he still feels like he could thrust his scalpel forward and dig it into the man’s chest.

The anger overtakes him in one swoop and he slams the passenger door shut, going to get into his car. He drives towards the part of town he knows is infested with what he considers to be lowlife. He parks, half on the sidewalk, and stomps out of his car. The first person he sees is an old man, sleeping. Grabbing his hair, he wakes him up, throwing him to the ground. He sees red, can’t control himself, and he starts plunging the blade into the man’s face. Again. Again. There’s only a few seconds of screams before the homeless man is dead.

But Neil Melendez can’t stop. He keeps going until his arm is so tired he can’t lift it anymore.

He looks down at his masterpiece. The old man’s face resembling chopped up beef. Wiping sweat and blood from his forehead he does his best to clean up the crime scene. Making sure he doesn’t leave anything of his own. It was a crime of convenience. Passion. But he has to get back in his right mind if he wants to do it again.

Draping a moving blanket from his trunk over his driver’s seat, he climbs into his car, exhausted. If he looks just outside his window he can see the man’s dead body. He feels nothing for it. But he feels something. Something that’s gnawing at his brain. People were supposed to be afraid of him. He looks at his blood covered hands, wiping them on his face. Afraid of what he could do. They weren’t supposed to thank him for rides to the bad part of town. They weren’t supposed to trust him. Not anymore.

>>>>><<<<<

There’s nothing on the news about the dead homeless man and Neil isn’t surprised by that. He’s a little frustrated. Wishes he could have a little recognition. He doesn’t have a lot of time to dwell on it however, as he sits back in the hospital parking lot for the second night in a row. He’s ashing his third cigarette of the hour against his boot, waiting for his residents to exit.

Coyle is the first outside, followed closely by a puppy dog-eyed Jared and a cringing Claire. He can see that Shaun is even further back, clearly looking unamused. He smiles. Figures. Part of him wishes he could’ve been Shaun’s attending. But he thinks he might get a little annoyed with the kid. As an outsider, however, he can admire his way to see through all of Coyle’s bullshit.

As they did the night before, Jared and Claire head for the parking garage. Coyle sits with Shaun at the bus stop. The two are deep in discussion. Well, Dr. Matt Coyle is in a deep discussion with a distracted Dr. Shaun Murphy. Neil wonders if he could get Shaun into his car two nights in a row. He shakes the thought when he remembers exactly why he’s here. To give Coyle exactly what he deserves. 

The bus comes a few minutes later, Coyle reaching out to place his hand on Shaun’s back. The resident ducks and flinches away, mumbling before running onto the bus. 

Melendez is quick on his feet, stalking behind Coyle before the bus is even out of sight. He follows closely behind the other man, careful to not get seen.

When they reach the doctor’s car, Coyle gets in the front seat, Neil quickly jumping in the back. The other man only has a second to get out a, “What the hell,” before Neil is pressing a knife to his throat.

The shaking is back. He’s so excited he can barely contain his laughter. He leans into the other man’s ear, getting close enough to feel the tickle of Coyle’s hair on his nose. “Oh, this is going to be _fun_.” Coyle attempts to turn, Neil presses the knife deeper, drawing a little blood. The scalpel from the night before had been a decent nod to his past life, but it didn’t go very deep into the skin. It was disappointing to say the least. A kitchen knife would prove more satisfying. “You really need to learn to respect your fellow peers Matthew. Claire is better than a lousy invitation to fuck at your apartment. Jared is better than the incorrect advice you’re giving him on how to get through his residency. And Shaun Murphy is better than a pat on the back.”

“Melendez?” Coyle rasps. “How do you even know Murphy, he came in after you were,” Neil digs deeper, cutting the doctor off. “Please, you don’t want to do this.”

“Drive. I’ll tell you when to stop.”

Originally he had planned to take Coyle to the bay by Santa Clara, but the man sure had a mouth on him. He begged for a while, bargained, cried a bit. Neil couldn’t handle it anymore. It was all getting under his skin. Pissing him off. So, he orders Coyle to pull off the side of the highway, into a dirt road. It’s far from the hospital, too far to walk, but Neil came prepared. 

He’s wearing a raincoat, two sets of gloves to keep his fingerprints from getting on the outermost set, and cab fare. As he’s slitting Coyle’s throat, slow, watching the blood squirt onto the windshield, he wishes he would’ve done something a little more drawn out. Maybe some torture. Cut out the man’s tongue. Something like that. But the deed is done and Coyle’s stopped breathing a few minutes ago. 

Neil removes all of the outer layers that may have gotten blood on them and walk them out into the field. Burning everything. Except the knife. He decides to keep that, shoving it in his jeans so no one would see it.

It’s only a short distance back to the highway and he manages to flag down a car that’s willing to give him a ride into the city. From there he grabs a cab to the hospital. It’s almost two a.m. and there are flashing lights outside. The rational part of his brain knows it's not what he thinks it is, but the irrational part wins and he fumbles to his car, speeding towards his apartment.

>>>>><<<<<

When he lost his job, he lost everything. His nice suite style apartment, a good amount of money, most of his friends, and his fiancee. He had nothing, and no one. Except the knife in his hand and the bloodlust in his eyes. 

It had been two days since he ended Coyle’s pathetic existence of hitting on women and drooling over porn and no one had found his body. Sure, he’d been reported missing, the hospital made sure of that, but no one had come across his car just yet. He wonders who will be the one to finally see his handiwork. A police officer most likely. Maybe a journalist? Or just some random citizen strolling in the middle of the desert of the highway. Although two days in he’s starting to get a little jumpy. He wants to go find the body himself and call the cops. But he knows he can’t do that. The hospital already suspects him of being a cold blooded killer and all this would do is seal his fate. So, he waits ever so patiently.

Until the third day, when the nine o’clock evening news is on and Neil has to sit up in seat. They’re talking about a body they found on the side of the highway. They’re talking about how it’s a murder victim, a _gruesome_ murder victim. “Who is it? Who is it?” He’s practically yelling at his TV, hand fumbling for the remote so he can turn up the volume.

_”It is currently believed that the body belongs to a Dr. Matthew Coyle. No word on suspects just yet.”_

He lets out a shaky breath. How long will it take for the police to call him in, he wonders. It’s all so exciting. He drops down on his bed, arms stretched over the back of his head. He knows he can hunt at the hospital any more. No, Coyle was a perfect target. People would suspect him for sure, but Coyle had a lot of enemies. The cops would suspect a lot of people. But if suddenly attending after attending went missing, Neil knows all fingers would start to point towards him. 

But that homeless man hadn’t been enough. There was no rush of danger. No news article about the life he had ended. It had been boring. He needs to figure out whos next. Figure out a high risk target that will get his blood pounding in his ears and his fingers dancing along a sharp blade.

He falls asleep, fully clothed, with the news playing in the background.

>>>>><<<<<

He’s not sure why he’s back at the hospital the night after they find Coyle’s body. He had already crossed the area off of his hunting ground. Any ‘last sightings’ of his future victims being at St. Bonaventure would be dier for him. So, why is he in his car, waiting for his residents? No, not his residents. Shaun Murphy. The one that got away.

Not this time. This time he’s experienced. This time when the kid bares his neck in a sign of trust Neil will take the opportunity to gut him in his backseat.

But he can’t let anyone see him. Can’t let anyone recognize him as he takes a risk most likely not worth taking. So he rolls up in his maroon colored Ford Fusion, a completely different vehicle than the one he used to drive. Jared and Claire had never come out of the hospital and he wonders why Murphy is already outside.

It’s deja vu, telling Shaun to get into his car. Deja vu when Shaun is reluctant for just a moment before standing and getting in the passenger seat. “Something happen?”

Shaun’s hair is greasy against his forehead and his eyes are bloodshot. “I’m very tired.”

“Residency kicking you?” He chuckles. Shaun shakes his head.

“The hospital is short staffed.” Neil nods. He knows why. “It’s very stressful.”

“I can imagine.”

He takes the same route he did the time before, taking the same wrong turns, parking in the same alleyway. Opening up his center console he pulls out his knife, glancing up at Shaun. Hoping to see the fear in those cerulean blue eyes. But he doesn’t. Shaun is _fucking sleeping_ in his passenger seat. Shaun Murphy is sleeping in the car of the man who wanted to gut him.

Melendez groans, putting his knife back and resting his head in his hands. He can’t do this. Not to Shaun. He doesn’t know a lot about this resident, but there’s something about the way he naturally trusts Neil that the other man just can’t get over. He doesn’t want to kill Shaun. No. He wants to protect Shaun. Keep the young man innocent. For as long as possible.

He finally drives Shaun home, lifting the young man out of his seat, carrying him up to his apartment. He digs around in Shaun’s backpack for his keys, letting himself inside, and dumping the man on the bed. Neil does a quick look around the apartment. Not impressive in the slightest. All the furniture is in the center of the room (and is that bus seat?) and the rest of the apartment is bland with personality. He does find one picture. It’s of two kids.

One must be Shaun. The other he can’t pinpoint, but he assumes it must be his brother. 

Neil checks in on Shaun before he leaves, pressing his ear to the man’s chest. He’s still breathing. A feeling of relief washes over him. Why would Shaun have stopped breathing? He doesn’t know. But it had worried him. He makes sure to lock the door before he leaves (and checks all windows and the back patio door to make sure they’re all locked tight), and leaves Shaun a note. Letting him know that he fell asleep in his car.

>>>>><<<<<

Over the next four weeks Neil ups his kill count to five. A homeless man, Dr. Matt Coyle, District Attorney Amanda Kirkland, a housekeeper named Martha, and a garbage man named George. He also spends those four weeks lurking outside Shaun’s apartment complex. He watches him, tells himself he’s keeping Shaun safe.

Occasionally he’ll give Shaun a ride home, chastising the other man for taking something as dangerous as the public bus. _”Do you know all the creeps who lurk around on those things? And the diseases you could catch?”_

There are moments when he thinks about killing Shaun. Finally pushing himself to go through with it. But then the more he thinks about it, he thinks he would be distraught without Shaun. Without a man he barely knows. Who barely knows him. 

One night, he finally takes it a step further. Engages Shaun in more than just polite small-talk. “Where are you from Shaun?”

“Casper, Wyoming.”

“Same as Glassman. You like it in San Jose?” Shaun shrugs. “I feel the same way. Lots of scum walking around out here.” He learns that Shaun’s new attending is a woman, her name is Janet Joreau. She tells them to call her J.J. Neil thinks he might like her, if he ever had the chance to meet her. He also learns that Shaun never told Glassman about Neil. That Glassman had made his disdain for Neil abundantly clear from the get go.

“But I like you. You are very nice to me.”

Neil smiles. He is very nice to Shaun. Shaun is his ‘one’. The ‘one’ that he won’t dispose of. 

He drops Shaun off around midnight, having unknowingly taken a longer drive than usual. Neil walks Shaun to the door of his apartment complex, constantly looking over his shoulder as they walk. The resident doesn’t seem to notice his paranoia. “Get some sleep. And don’t let the hospital overwork you.”

“I like working at the hospital.”

“I know. Just don’t let them _over_ work you Shaun. I mean it.” He does his best to sound serious. To sound threatening. But not at Shaun. For him.

Neil leaves a few minutes later, sitting outside Shaun’s apartment until two a.m. 

Three weeks later the police show up at his door.

>>>>><<<<<

They explain that they’re just doing some routine questioning. That the hospital had pointed to him as a prime suspect for the Coyle murder. He agrees to go downtown, doing his best to act offended and completely shocked by the accusations. He tells them he didn’t even know that Coyle died, tells them he’s not a big fan of watching the news.

“You were fired a few months ago,” one of the detectives says, laying a manila folder down on the silver table. Neil leans forward, opening the folder. It has a list of all of his patients that he’d ‘lost’ on the operating table. “Officially it says that you were let go for disorderly conduct. But we spoke to the president of the hospital. Dr. Glassman. He gave us a little more information.” The detective reached down and turned the top page. Below it was a photo of Coyle’s dead body. 

Neil is quick to look away, feign becoming sick. The cop closes the folder. 

“Quite the weak stomach for an ex-surgeon.”

“Surgeons don’t have to look at lifeless eyes.” He growls, placing his hand on the folder and sliding it far away from him. “What’s the point of having me here? I didn’t do this.”

“Did you get along with Dr. Coyle?”

Neil groans, rolling his eyes. “No one got along with Dr. Coyle. He was a pig.”

The detective smiles, like he’s heard that before. Which he probably has if he’s been asking about Matthew Coyle. He reopens the folder, flipping past the picture of the slit neck and blood drenched shirt, stopping at a photo of burnt cloth. Neil licks his lips. From the photo he can tell that there’s nothing left. No evidence. They have nothing on him. “What’s this?”

The detective sighs. “Nothing.” He stands, heading for the door.

“Does this mean I can go home?”

He shakes his head. “Nah, we’re gonna keep you here as long as we can.”

“Do I need a lawyer?” He does his best to sound terrified. Like he’s actually worried that they might pin this one on him.

The detective laughs. “Do you?”

>>>>><<<<<

They keep him there for thirty-six hours. 

He has no money on him when they let him go so he’s offered a ride home in a police cruiser. He takes it. 

Neil asks the cop who drives him home if he should be worried. “I mean if you did it, yeah.” The cop taps his fingers on the steering wheel. “But if you didn’t I would just say be prepared to be hounded by police until we find who did.” 

Neil thinks, as he enters his apartment, that they may never find out who did it. He wonders if they’ll give up. Wonders if they’ll hound him until he’s so stressed out of his mind he makes a slip up. He vows to not hunt for a few weeks. Makes sure that he’s completely in the clear before he takes his next victim. 

He goes to Shaun’s house that night, glaring at the parked car across Neil’s street. He knows who it is, knows what they’re doing, but doesn’t acknowledge them for any more than a few seconds. 

Shaun is asleep when he crawls through the other man’s back patio door and into his living room. Quiet as a mouse, he opens the other man’s refrigerator and takes out the last green apple. He munches on it as he watches Shaun sleep for a few hours. After adequately assessing that Shaun was in no danger, that Shaun was alone and with _no one but him_ he leaves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a two parter, second part should be out in a week. I fully understand that Neil’s obsession with Shaun is 100% unhealthy and that Shaun is pretty much oblivious to the most obvious red flags, but whatever, it’s fiction right? I also don’t know how the second part will end so it’s a mystery to you and me. E X C I T I N G.


	2. PART TWO: OBSESSION

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> KILLING FOLKS, BUT NOT KILLING THEIR DREAMS™

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the second and final part to this story. I hope it wrapped everything up for this AU.

The police are still looking into him the night he dumps a body into the bay, limb by limb, each wrapped in a black garbage bag. Although he’s certain that they stopped stalking him. No more cars parked outside his apartment, no more following him when he went to the grocery store for food. Or to Shaun’s when he got lonely. 

Neil wiped the sweat on his brow, rubbing his hands on his pants. Hefty work, disposing of bodies is. He looks around, makes sure no one saw him, and heads back to his car. In his center console is a small leather bound notebook with a list of names. List of victims. He knows that it’s irresponsible to keep the names of everyone he’s killed in one place, but he can’t help himself. He needs to keep track, so if they ever arrest him he can give the police a solid number.

Current count: 13.

Nothing spectacular. It’s not like he’s got a cemetary of bodies under his belt. Not that he wouldn’t mind getting to that point. 

On occasion, when he’s sitting in his apartment alone, he’ll think about why he feels the need to do what he does. He’ll think about what drives him to make such rash and violent moves that leave people in ruins. He never finds the answer, can’t bring himself to care. 

Letting out a sigh he heads back towards the main street. He parked quite a few blocks away, careful to not be seen on any traffic cameras or security cameras around the city. He was sure no one would ever find his dumping ground, but if he was seen at the docks every week someone would get suspicious. 

His car is untouched when he gets back to it, looking over his shoulder as he enters and starts the engine up. Chances are the cops are still keeping a few tabs on him, possibly tracking his car. Which is why he always parked outside a twenty-four hour pub. The most the cops could pull from that is that he had a drinking problem. 

It’s a Friday, and as far as he knows Shaun doesn’t have to work the next day, so that’s where he goes. He really hopes that he never gets tired of Shaun Murphy, hopes that he never glances to his right and sees the pale face of his next victim. Squeezing his steering wheel he shudders at the thought. 

He parks and climbs into Shaun’s apartment quickly, keeping an eye out for any witnesses. No cops. Good sign. Shaun is sleeping in the center of his living room, television flashing colors across his face. Neil turns it off, taking his usual seat on the ground next to Shaun’s bed. The other man doesn’t awake. He lies still as Neil carefully runs his hand through his brown hair. 

Over the past few months he’d had to be brutally honest to himself a few times. _Yes, Shaun is important to you. Yes, Shaun dying is a very bad thing. Yes, Shaun isn’t just your one in terms of victims. He’s your **one**_. Fingers curl around brunette locks, tickling Shaun’s ear. Neil is often surprised that the other man doesn’t even twitch while Neil does this, but he figures it must have something to do with how hard the hospital works him. 

Melendez loses track of time and before he knows it Shaun’s alarm is going off. His eyes feel heavy and so does the rest of his body, so he doesn’t move. Allows Shaun to grumble and sit up, stopping his alarm, and the glance over to him. Shaun doesn’t seem fazed. Neil tilts his head. “Oh, hi.” Shaun stands, beginning his morning routine.

“Hey, sleep well?”

“Yes,” Shaun stretches his arm behind his head. “I don’t remember letting you in last night.”

Neil shrugs. “You didn’t. Just thought I’d visit. Door was locked so I came through the patio.” He doesn’t tell Shaun how often he does that. “What’re your plans for today?”

Shaun turns up the side of his mouth. “I don’t know.”

“Okay, I’m gonna catch a few ‘z’s, wake me up around lunch time. I’ll buy us something.”

Shaun nods. “Okay.”

>>>>><<<<<

Shaun’s fingers curl and uncurl as he reaches down to shake Neil’s shoulders. It only takes a few seconds for Neil to jerk awake, flinging out an arm and smacking Shaun’s leg. He apologizes as he sits up, rubbing his eyes. “I have to go to the police station for questioning. There’s some food in the fridge.” Shaun says, walking away from the bed. Neil suddenly looks very awake.

“Why do they need to question you?”

“They didn’t say,” Shaun puts on his jacket. “Although I think it might have something to do with Dr. Coyle’s murder. Will you be here when I get home?”

Neil is quiet for a moment. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll be here.” Shaun doesn’t think that the smile Neil directs at him is very sincere, but he can’t get close enough to tell. 

Shaun takes the bus to the police station, glad to see that the bus stop is directly in front of the station so he doesn’t have a big distance to walk. Detective Wynne meets him at the door, greeting him with an arm outstretched wide, going in for the dreaded pat on the back. Shaun side steps so the man misses his shoulder. 

He met Detective Wynne the same day that he learned that Coyle had gone officially missing. The man had come into the hospital, partner following his every step, and started asking questions. Who liked Coyle? Who didn’t? Who did he last talk to? Any scorned family members of patients lost? The Detective had been thorough and Shaun really believed that he wanted to find whoever killed Coyle. So he had helped as much as he could that day. He didn’t know much so it wasn’t a surprise when the Detective never called him in for more questioning, until now.

They don’t take him to an interrogation room, instead they sit in him a navy blue room with a large wooden table in the center. He sits on the side facing the door, gratefully taking the glass of water Wynne hands him. Wynne dismisses the other detective in the room, closing the door slowly behind him. Shaun takes a sip of his water as Wynne sits across from him, folding his hands on the table.

“Are you aware of you rights?”

“Are you arresting me?”

“No, Dr. Murphy, we’re not.” He pulls a small tape recorder out of his pocket. “I’m going to record this questioning, which is why I was asking. If you would like a lawyer you are lawfully entitled to one.” Shaun shakes his head. “Okay. Then can you state your name for the record, and spell it as well please.” Shaun does just that, and he gives the detective his address, birth date, social security number, and workplace. “Alright, perfect Dr. Murphy. Now I’m going to go ahead and read some of the answers you gave to our questions the day that we came to hospital. Alright?” Shaun nods. “And if - my goal isn’t to confuse you, so if something doesn’t make sense, just ask. I just want to find out what happened to Dr. Coyle. So if any of what I say doesn’t make sense feel free to say something.”

“Okay.”

“Alright, do you have any questions thus far?”

“No.”

“Good, good.” 

Wynne takes Shaun through his first statement at the hospital pretty quickly, once he’s content with Shaun confirming everything he said that first day, he sets aside the transcript and starts with a new round of questioning.

“We found Dr. Coyle in his SUV a few miles off the highway, any reason why he would be out there?”

“Did you call other people from the hospital in for questioning too, or just me?”

“Yes, we did, now can we stick to the questions I’m asking, doctor?”

Shaun nods. “I didn’t know Coyle very well.”

“So you don’t know if he went out there against his will or not?”

“Nope.”

Wynne nods, pulls out a pad of paper, and writes somethings down. “And you said in our initial questioning that Coyle was revered by many of the people he worked with, correct?”

Shaun shakes his head, humming out a ‘no’. “Nurses, nurses like him very much.”

“Doctors don’t?”

“I don’t know, you’d have to ask them.”

“What’s your opinion of Dr. Coyle?”

“He is very rude.”

Wynne nods, he’s heard this before. “Dr. Coyle’s SUV had footprints leading away from it and back towards the highway, but according to his GPS in the car he didn’t make any stops between the hospital and there. In fact, his route was rather sporadic. Went right by your apartment building.”

Shaun clenches and unclenches his hands.

“You see anyone lurking around the hospital the night Coyle went missing? Any cars you recognize outside your apartment?”

 _Yes_ , Shaun did see someone that night. And the night before. But. “No.”

“No one at all?”

He nods.

“Shaun,” it’s the first time that Wynne has called him by his first name, it unsettles Shaun. “It’s imperative that you be completely truthful with me. And I have no question that you are, you’ve been upfront with me since the beginning of this investigation. Seems like that’s kind of how you are.” He lets out a sigh. “There are no trick questions here, no secret agendas. I just want the truth. I’m questioning everyone who’s worked or been associated with Dr. Coyle. None of what they say or what you say will become public unless it’s useful. And if you’re scared I can offer you protection.”

“I’m not scared.” He says defensively.

“Alright,”

“I don’t know anything.”

“Dr. Murphy…”

“I would like to leave now.”

Wynne sighs, rubbing his temples and standing. “Okay, I’ll have an officer show you out.” He grabs a business card out of his jacket pocket, handing it to Shaun. “If you do happen to remember anything about who you saw that night, contact me.”

Shaun takes the card in his hand, fingers tight around it. He looks to Wynne, wonders if anyone has ever lied to him and gotten away with it. He leaves with the card crumpled in his hand.

>>>>><<<<<

Neil sits dead still as he waits for Shaun to walk through the door. He saw him pull up in the parking lot a few seconds prior and his heart stopped. No police on his tail. No extra sleek black vehicle parking next to him. He sighs. As long as Shaun doesn’t come in and start acting like he’s wearing a wire, Neil may be in the clear.

Shaun does something a little bit worse. He walks in silent, doesn’t look at Neil, and just stands silently in his kitchen. Neil clears his throat. Murphy doesn’t look at him. So he stands, walks over to the kitchen and leans against the half wall separating it and the living room. “So, what’d they ask you?”

Shaun pats his hair, thinking. Neil can tell he’s paler than usual, eyes bloodshot and eyebrows raised. Neil’s face darkens. He takes a few steps across the kitchen, forcing Shaun to move more towards the fridge away from the counters. Behind his back Neil opens the silverware drawer, smoothly pulling out a steak knife. “What’d they ask you?” He says again, fingers dancing across the hilt of the knife.

Turning to face him, Shaun lets out a shaky breath. “You were there the night that Dr. Coyle went missing. You were there the night before. You took me to a very bad place.” Neil’s grip tightens. It would only take a step and a jab. Easy. “You were going to kill me.” Hearing those words come out of Shaun’s mouth makes Neil’s eyes water. He would never. “Why didn’t you?”

The knife clatters to the ground. “I don’t know.” Shaun’s eyes land on the knife. “I don’t know.” He repeats it a few more times. “I can’t. Kill you. I’ve tried so many times but I just can’t.”

“Is it because I’m special?”

“So special.” Neil breathes. He stalks over to Shaun, hand out, and grabs the other man by the cheek. Shaun’s a little bit taller than him so it’s a little awkward, forcing the man to look at him. “More than you know.” 

“How many?”

“Thirteen. After I left the hospital.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know.” He says honestly. “I just feel so unchained when I take someone else’s life. Powerful. Unstoppable. It’s a feeling that rivals that of sex.”

“But you don’t want to kill me?”

“You’re much more valuable alive to me Shaun Murphy.”

Neil’s heart was beating so fast he couldn’t get a decent breath in. His head, which moments before had been full of images of his past prey now was swarming with anticipation. He leaned in, got close enough to Shaun so the resident could feel Neil’s hot breath on his cheek. Neil watched and waited for Shaun’s eyes to flutter closed. Then their lips touched. 

He had never kissed a man before, but it didn’t matter. Kissing Shaun was like kissing a significant other he’d been with for ten years. It felt right. Felt like home. He pressed harder, deeper. Fingers curled around his belt loops and he let his arms snake around and tug Shaun at the waist. He wonders what’s going through Shaun’s head as he kisses a serial killer. He hopes it’s good things. Hopes Shaun isn’t thinking about all the bodies at the bottom of the San Jose docks.

Neil tilts his head so he can stick his tongue in Shaun’s mouth, but doesn’t get the chance to get that far.

A knock on the door is what stops him. Shaun's face is flushed and his lips have turned a plump red. Neil glares at the door over his shoulder. “Shaun!” It’s Glassman. Whoever Shaun met with was probably suspicious enough to alert the old man. Fool. 

Neil places a hand over Shaun’s mouth, keeping him from responding. “Go answer the door. Make him leave.”

Shaun nods. He can’t help but smile. Shaun following his orders without question is something he’d kill to keep happening.

He waits against the wall of the living room, hiding from view of the front door. Shaun opens the door only wide enough to peak his head through. “Hello.”

“Shaun, are you alone?”

Shit, Shaun’s a terrible liar. “Yep, uh huh.”

“Can I come in?”

“No, goodbye.”

Neil hears Glassman stop the door with his arm and stomp inside. He has a few seconds. Just a few. 

He runs for the kitchen.

Glassman gasps, shouts something.

Neil’s side and back slam into the bottom cupboards as he slides across the linoleum floor.

He has the knife. The same one that he would’ve plunged into Shaun’s neck if he could stomach it.

Glassman starts screaming. It’s too loud. Someone will hear. Shaun’s hands are on his ears and he’s trying to get Glassman to stop. Neil’s eyes twitch and suddenly he’s crying and shaking and he can’t stop himself.

Aaron Glassman slumps against the wall, causing Shaun to jump and recoil. He’s gurgling, knife rested into his sternum. Neil’s hands are at his side, eyes boring into Aaron’s.

Shaun’s rocking back and forth and Neil wants to apologize. Wants to say how sorry he is for this one. But he doesn’t. 

Pulling the knife out of Glassman, Neil winces at the sound of metal against bone. He’s breathing heavily. Not from physical exertion. His hand is drenched in red as he turns to Shaun. “Had to be,” he gulps. “Done.”

Shaun walks up to Glassman, kneeling at his side. Neil runs a red hand through Shaun’s hair, attempting to be comforting. “He’s in a lot of pain.” Shaun says, voice hoarse. Melendez kneels next to him, hand still running over the other man’s head. Glassman is still breathing, barely holding on. They both know that they could fix him. Maybe get him stable enough to be transported to the hospital. But Neil knows that can’t be how it is.

He takes the knife, rounds Shaun’s back, and places it into the other man’s hand. They lock eyes. “I told you why I did this. Power. Freedom.” He wraps Shaun’s fingers around the blade. “Let’s become free. Free. Let’s be free Shaun.” He chuckles. “Together. You and me. Free.” It’s half him. And half Shaun. That plunge the business end of the knife into Aaron’s neck. 

>>>>><<<<<

Powdered donuts and chocolate milk. He sighs, not the healthiest of breakfasts. But Neil had made it clear that they couldn’t risk stopping anywhere for too long. Gas station food would be what they would have to live on until they got to Canada.

He approached the counter with food in hand, depositing it in front of the clerk. The woman grabbed his things, ringing each item up. Shaun’s eyes wander upwards to the TV screen to the side of him. In view of the clerk. His face is on the midday news. Very interesting. They’re calling him a kidnap victim. They’re calling Neil a murder. He wonders if the police know about Neil’s headcount. Probably not.

When he looks back to the woman her eyes are glassy and she looks like she’s about to have a freakout. Her hands reach for the phone to her side, picking up the receiver. Shaun narrows his eyes. “Please don’t.”  
She stops. “You’re that man, on the news.”

He nods, grabbing his things and place some money down on the counter. “I have to go now.”

“If you’re in trouble, let me call the police.”

Shaun giggles, rocking his head forwards and backwards. “I’m not in trouble.”

The bell above the door jingles when it opens. The clerk holds her breath, watching as Neil approaches her counter. He smiles at her, turns to Shaun and motions for him to head out to the car. “Cigarettes please,” he pulls out a five dollar bill.

She hands him the box with widened eyes. 

“You’re going to call the police after I leave, aren’t you?”

She shakes her head.

“No reason to lie to me.”

“You’re going to kill me, aren’t you.”

He hums, tilted his head and pursing his lips. “Yeah, I am.”

The clerk doesn’t have time to react as he pulls out a gun and fires. Once. Twice. She attempts to grab the phone. He pulls it until the cord snaps.

When he hops back into the car with Shaun at his side, he doesn’t mention the pile of cash. They kiss as he starts up the car, depositing the handgun into the glove box. Neil smiles as they pull away from each other. “Ready?”

“Yes.”

Neil bites his lip. He’s obsessed. And he couldn’t imagine being anything but.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HOLY SMOKES. I’m actually really happy with the way this turned out. It’s not as long as I wanted it to be, but I think the shortness it sweet enough to really get the ending across. I’m glad people enjoyed this, I had fun, got to bring out a bit of Norman Bates in our lovable Shaun Murphy, so that was fun. ANYWAYS. Next chapter to my high school fic will be out in a few days, so look out for that folks.


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